I stood at the top of the stairs and surveyed all that was mine. From a professional point of view, that is. I could see most of the salon from up here, the styling area at least. The angle didn’t let me see in to reception, but I knew that Katie was there, holding the fort.
I ran my head over my smooth scalp, thinking about how different my life was, now that I’d decided just to go with what I wanted and everyone else be damned. I mean that in the nicest possible way of course. I wanted to experience new things, not be frightened of them or turn them down out of hand. If I thought back even six months, the difference was dramatic. The person that I was then was on the lookout for a nice-looking man with a car and a house and no hint of a wife. They’d been few and far between, but when one came along, I always had the knack of ending up in bed with them. They didn’t last long, they weren’t looking to last long. They saw a trim, unattached woman in her forties and decided to see how long the ride would last without getting attached in any way. It had got me a couple of great fucks and quite a few lousy ones.
I’d had a full head of hair and was proud of it. It was free advertising for the salon, a tribute to the girls who worked here. Then I decided that I needed to change my approach. The prospect of getting down and dirty with someone who’d probably been about a bit just wasn’t so appealing when I really thought about it. I started to question why I’d spent so long pursuing that avenue for so little return. I wasn’t lonely, but I wanted companionship, like most people do. Then one day the prospective solution came in a totally unexpected form. I went to a trade show and got talking to someone who listened, made me laugh, made me feel good about myself. We’d ended up in bed back at the hotel. I’d sat at the dresser the morning after, looking at myself in the mirror, looking at the figure behind me while she got dressed. Her circumstances dictated that it was a one-night stand, but it was just the jolt that I’d needed.
Before I bumped into Joanne, I’d never found women attractive, never paid them too much attention, except as rivals or clients. If I looked at their figure, it was always to see what they’d got that I hadn’t, why they’d got the guy that I wanted and I hadn’t. Now I was approaching things totally differently. I went to places to meet women. I put in the time and effort to learn new skills. It was typical of me, whatever challenge I set myself, I threw myself into whole-heartedly. The challenge this time was to learn how to be with women. I knew what I liked to be done to me, but up until Joanne, I’d never even considered how to turn the tables and be useful between another woman’s legs. I studied hard and used every opportunity to put my expanding knowledge into practice. I was open to the idea of one of my encounters turning into something more permanent, but it didn’t happen until I met Jill.
I started to use lesbian porn as a learning tool and my research increased dramatically during lockdown. What else was one supposed to do, living alone?
That had led me to the discovery that I was attracted to the concept of women with very short hair, despite having spent a lifetime with long hair, surrounded by mostly by women with long hair, pandering to the needs of women with long hair. Despite spending so much time in the salon, it was rare for me to encounter a woman who could be considered unconventional in her hairstyle.
When I wasn’t watching porn during the lockdown, I was thinking about getting the salon open again. On the rare occasions that I ventured out, it was clear that some businesses were taking advantage of the forced closure to re-model their premises. It hadn’t been that long since I’d had the salon re-fitted, but it prompted me to think of changes that I could make for the re-opening.
I became much more discerning in how I spent my time online. I wouldn’t watch porn unless it featured a women who had at least part of her neck uncovered by hair. My motto became ‘the shorter the better’ when it came to my viewing choices. That led me to videos of woman getting their hair cut, which soon competed with porn videos for my attention. I could get off just as easily to a fully-clothed woman having her hair cut really short as I could when watching women exploring each other’s bodies. I’d experienced the latter several times since Joanne, but I started to wonder about how I could indulge my new interest in the real world. The obvious first step would be to go short myself, but I wanted to be able to watch other women do it. Watch their uncertainty, see the transformation as it happened.
That led me to the concept of ‘”Shorty’s” for the salon. I’d create a “hobby” department to see if I could lure the unwary and entice them to share my new-found interest. I didn’t want to go to the expense of creating it physically, it was more a concept in my mind. What I did want, though, was a record of whatever went on there, so I had cameras installed during the latter stages of the shut-down, telling the guy that they were for training purposes. They had to be hidden so that they didn’t make either stylist or model self-conscious. He didn’t ask questions, he just wanted the cash. We were both happy with the deal.
As the end of lockdown approached, I firmed up my concept. I wanted the staff who would appear in my private film collection to have super-short hair, but the difficulty would be in finding someone who’d agree to do it. I didn’t really want to bring a new person in, because that would mean additional costs and the whole concept could well fall at the first hurdle. That would leave me with more stylists than I needed, so I would have to persuade one of the existing girls to cut their hair.
I decided that Suzy would be my ideal stylist to take over. She was good with the men who came in, good with clippers. However, it didn’t quite go to plan with her. Although I really wanted my hair cut short by a stylist whose own hair was short, I’d decided to go first, as it were, as a way to get her to buy in to the idea. She’d given me a great crew-cut, which I enjoyed many times in private over the following days, but when it came to cutting her own, she balked. When I look back, it was harsh of me to let her go, but I was so frustrated, I’d lashed out. I’ve heard that she did actually shave her head later and would like to think that I planted the seed, even if I didn’t get to reap the benefit. I’ve toyed with the idea of asking her back, but I think that it could prove awkward. I’m happy with the staff that I have for now.
Dani was a revelation. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched the film of me shaving her head. I’d love to get someone to edit the footage from the different angles, but I don’t know who I’d get to do it. They might want to know about consent to the filming and all that sort of thing, and I just don’t
pportunity to re-live the experience whenever I want.
Her surprise on film when she sees me with a crew-cut is just magical. I love the way that she hangs on my every word while I explain the concept of “Shorty’s” to her. How she looks concerned when I tell her about Suzy not wanting to do it and that I’ll probably have to let her go. The look of uncertainty on her face when I ask her to take on the job. The phone call to her boyfriend to ask his opinion. Would he still love her? The obvious resignation when she eventually says the magic word. I still recall the dampness when I caped her, wrestling with my emotions when I turned the clippers on and ran them up the side of her head. I can’t believe that I managed to conceal my excitement at what I was doing to her, how I resisted the urge to caress her when she was smooth. It makes me shudder even now.
Things have come a long way in the few short weeks since then. I’ve got Jill, we’re having fun exploring this new world that we’ve both stumbled in to. The fact that I’ve got a girlfriend isn’t a secret, although not something that I flaunt in the salon. The girls tell me that I seem happier than I have for a long time, “Shorty’s” is still holding its own, Dani has embraced the idea of having a covering of stubble at most, so it all seems to have worked out fine.
All of this has led me to have a little party at my house to celebrate coming out of lockdown and “coming out” in other aspects of my life. Throwing a party wasn’t something that I was too enthusiastic about when Jill suggested it, but we talked about it one night in bed and the more we talked, the more the idea grew on me. That enthusiasm only started to wane once the planning started and I realised how much effort would be involved in getting people together.
However, the more we talked about having a group of people over to the house, the more I found fault with the idea. It was Jill who had the brainwave to hold it at the salon, where surfaces would be easier to clean, there were no carpets to get food and broken glass ground in and people would be less inclined to stay too late. Brilliant!
Jill was a trooper in making the arrangements, but she did delegate one task to me, which she’d suggested as the main entertainment. At first I’d refused to even consider her suggestion, but she kept chipping away at me, finding more reasons why we should, until she laid it on the line.
‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ she asked.
‘How long have you got?’
‘Look, it’ll cost a bit, but how many parties have you been to where they’ve done this sort of thing?’
‘There you go. People will talk about it for years.’
‘You say that as if it’s a good thing.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’
‘If you say so’ I replied.
‘I’m sure a woman with your powers of persuasion won’t have any difficulty at all.’
‘I think the wheels will have to be greased with money and plenty of it’ I replied.
‘You don’t ask, you don’t get’ she replied, signalling that the conversation was at an end.
It was silly to get too wound up. After all, we’d ended up only inviting a dozen people. We didn’t want the salon to feel cramped, otherwise people wouldn’t feel safe, so we’d scaled things down from the number that I would’ve had at the house, where people could have used multiple rooms to keep groups small.
It took a lot of doing, but I held up my end and organised the showcase entertainment. Jill just did everything else!
That super-brief summary allows me to skip forward to the evening itself and a salon full of people, a few friends and their “plus ones”. Katie, the salon receptionist was helping us out by holding the drinks tray as the guests came in, rather dressed-down in jeans and a shirt that I’m sure she’d borrowed off her boyfriend, because it seemed to swamp her.
‘I haven’t had chance to say “congratulations”‘ Andrea said, giving my upper arm a little squeeze in place of the full-on hug and kiss that she would’ve gone for in the old days. The glance at my smooth scalp was appreciative. ‘It’s lovely to see you looking so happy’ she added.
‘Thank you’ I said.
Jill and I were the talk of the evening, which was only right, given that we both looked fabulous with our party frocks and freshly-shaven heads! We weren’t the only ones who looked wonderful, and Jill had already chastised me once for checking out the backside of the wife of a friend of mine. I just told her that I had a lot of catching up to do, although not as much as her. When the two of us decided that the gathering was going well, it was time for my little welcome speech. I’ll spare you the bulk of it, but rest assured, it was witty and well-received.
‘And now, my friends, we have a little “divertissement” for your pleasure. A little insight into this fantasy world of ours’ I said, deploying my finest French accent. That was the cue.
I looked at as many expressions as I could while my guests’ attention was focussed on the figure that was approaching them from the end of the salon. They parted slightly to allow the newcomer to pass. Conversation had stopped, leaving just the music to fill the space. My eye caught Jill’s. She grinned at me and gave me a “thumbs up” sign. I was almost as surprised as any of the guests at what we were seeing, because I didn’t think that our “entertainment” would actually materialise. Indeed, only ten minutes earlier, I’d had my phone in my hand ready to text her see what the hold-up was. The clicking of heels down the salon proved that I was wrong to doubt her.
I was as enthralled as everyone else in the room. It’s one thing to imagine someone in their underwear, it’s quite another to actually see it. Particularly when that underwear is full-on “fuck me” lingerie: gorgeous lacy black bra and knickers, fishnet stockings and scary-looking spike-heeled shoes. This couldn’t have been further from the image she’d presented when the guests came in night. I’d given her a budget and told her to make it sexy and she hadn’t let me down. She stopped at one of the styling stations, span a chair round and lifted a foot on to the seat. I doubt that I was the only one who wanted to spend some time with her, helping her out of the little that she was wearing. She’d been with me at the salon for nearly a year and this was a side of her that I’d never seen, let alone guessed at.
‘Let me introduce the salon receptionist, Katie, who you may remember from when you came in tonight. She’s volunteered to help with a little demonstration this evening’ I announced.
There was a flurry of applause, which grew when she turned the chair and straddled it, resting her head coyly on her arms that were arrayed across the chair-back. Steady-on girl!
‘Katie’s been a faithful gatekeeper at the salon for nearly a year now, and I thought that it was time for her to spread her wings. As you can see, she appears to have mis-heard me and thought that I’d told her to “spread her legs”. Cue laughter. ‘She’s always happy to help out around the salon and jumped at the chance to join us this evening’ I explained. ‘I think if she were to dress for work the way that she’s dressed now, we’d have people queuing out of the door for an appointment’ I said, moving close enough to her to place a hand on her back.
‘She’s been the face of the salon for all that time, projecting the glossy, well-groomed image of what used to be the main salon. As some of you know, we’ve re-positioned the salon since the lockdown and now cater mainly for women who’ve used that time to re-assess their lives and their routines. Many of us have decided to simplify our lives, which is what’s making the salon popular in a different way from before. Kate’s going to be a very important part of that new direction’ I said, running my fingers through her long hair. It cascaded down her back, healthy, shiny, a testament to the care that she put in to maintain it and a testament to Dani who trimmed it for her to keep it looking sharp.
I separated a tress and drew it out from the side of her head to its full length. There was a gasp when I brought my other hand up to reveal a pair of scissors. I heard one of the guests say ‘Nooo’ as she realised what was in prospect. I looked across at her.
‘Come on Sandra, you can be first’ I urged, holding the scissors out to her.
‘I couldn’t’ she objected.
‘Go on’ another of the guests urged. Not someone that I’d primed, just a potential kindred spirit.
‘Cut! Cut! Cut!’ one of the female guests started, although quickly losing enthusiasm when the others deemed themselves too sophisticated for such playground behaviour.
‘Come on, Sandra!’ I urged, waving the scissors at her. She came forward gingerly. She was the partner of the guy who did the salon’s books, so not someone that I would call a friend really. They were invited because I was on the verge of re-negotiating my accountancy fees and thought that a little corporate hospitality wouldn’t go amiss. It didn’t hurt that I thought that she was quite attractive, now that I viewed my surroundings differently. Indeed, it had been her backside that Jill had caught me checking out earlier.
I held the scissors out to her, holding them by the blades. She looked at me, then looked at Katie sitting there expectantly, enticingly.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked, with the same sort of trepidation that anyone displays when pulled out of the anonymous comfort of an audience and brought into the spotlight.
‘Anything you want’ I said.
‘You mean cut her hair?’
‘That’s the only thing that these scissors know how to do’ I replied. I needed to hurry her along, before people lost interest. I’m only too aware that not everyone shares my passion for hair-cutting, either professionally or recreationally.
‘Do you mind?’ she asked Katie.
‘She wants you to. That’s what she’s waiting for’ I said, jumping in before Katie could respond.
She reached forward and separated a tress, holding it lightly between her fingers. I doubt that she’d felt hair in such good condition before. She positioned the blades about an inch from the end of the tress.
‘Is that too much?’ she asked.
I placed my hand gently over hers and guided it upwards, taking the opportunity to appreciate Katie’s generous chest, barely restrained by the expensively-inadequate bra that I’d paid for. I had a flashback to watching a ballroom dancing show with my aunt and uncle on TV years ago. My uncle never made any attempt to be “PC” and whilst we’d watched in silence for much of the programme, he suddenly said “My word, her dumplings are boiling over!” in respect of one of the contestants, whose dress was admittedly struggling to contain her ample bosom. I’d been shocked that he’d said something like that when I was in the room and I think that he’d shocked himself that he’d said it out loud. However, it was entirely appropriate for what I was looking at with Katie.
I leaned in to Sandra. ‘Cut’ I urged. I felt her hesitation and squeezed her hand gently. The scissor blades met, a long tress of hair was cut about six inches from Katie’s scalp.
‘I think we can do better than that. What do you think everyone?’
‘Yeah, go for it Sandy!’ my accountant encouraged. That had better get me a much better deal than last year, I thought. I helped Sandra split out another tress and we went through the same performance. This wasn’t the drama that I’d envisioned when Jill and I had talked it through originally. Sandra wasn’t the right choice, but it was difficult to throw her back into the throng without giving too much away. I didn’t want them to know that Jill and I had put this on for us, rather than them.
‘Those scissors don’t appear to be working very well tonight’ I said. ‘Let’s try these’
Her eyes followed my hand to the clippers that were hanging on a hook to the side of the styling station.
‘You’ve used these before, haven’t you? On your brother or your husband’ I said, well-aware that her husband didn’t have his hair cut with clippers.
‘No, never’ she replied.
‘Maybe you’ve just wanted to use them on him, but never had the opportunity’ I said, to a peal of laughter. ‘They’re simple, you can’t hurt anyone with them, you just move them slowly and let them do their work’ I said. I put a number four guard on them so that she couldn’t go wrong.
‘I can’t’ she pleaded, looking at Katie. The poor girl would catch her death sitting there half-naked unless I did something.
‘That’s fine Sandra. How about if I get Katie to jump up and let her show you that they’re perfectly harmless? Would that make you feel better?’ I suggested.
‘A little demonstration would be good’ she replied.
Katie didn’t need any urging to get on the other end of the clippers. She stood up, flicked her hair behind her shoulders so that the onlookers could admire the quality of the stitching on her bra, or something like that.
‘If you want to have a seat, Katie’ll show you how it’s done. She’s not used clippers before as far as I know, so it’s not as if she’s a seasoned professional either’ I said, handing the clippers to Katie.
‘You mean use them on me?’ she asked, looking at me and then into the throng to find her man.
‘Why not?’ Your hair is quite short already, so why not go low-maintenance? How about if we ask Roger?’ I said, looking towards my trusty number-cruncher.
‘What do you think Roger, would you like Sandra with shorter hair?’ I looked at Sandra’s soccer-mom cut, thinking that we’d be doing it a favour to cut it off.
‘Like yours?’ a wag called out.
‘If she wants’ I replied.
‘I’m going to have to let Katie put her clothes back on if we don’t have decision. She’s getting cold. It’s a Health and Safety thing. She’s in the workplace, even if she is dressed like a slut’ I said, with mock disapproval emphasising the final word.
‘Take one for the team, Sandra! Keep her clothes off!’ One of the guests urged. Male, of course. Sandra’s gaze was fixed on her husband.
‘It’s up to you’ he replied, helpfully.
I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s okay Sandra. Think about it. It’d really suit you. Give me a ring and we’ll have a chat about it’ I said quietly.
‘Any other takers?’ I asked, looking to my audience.
One of the guys put his hand up expectantly.
‘Happy to do it for you, Dave, but you need to send that lovely lady of yours up here if you want to keep Katie in her undies’ I said. He actually looked
at his partner to see if she would. Much as I’d love to have her in the chair, I’d have been disappointed in her if she’d taken me up on the offer without at least some pushback.
‘Well, it’s a big thank you to the lovely Katie. Go and get some clothes on dear!’ I said.
Maybe I should’ve approached things differently. Never mind, I’d finish the job once everyone else had gone home when it was just Jill, myself and of course, the cameras. It had cost me enough to get her to agree, so I was determined to get my money’s worth. Katie walked away to a chorus of disappointment.
‘I’ll do it’ a voice piped up.
‘Sounds like we have a winner!’ I said. It was Fiona, a sales rep from my main supplier. I’d got to know her quite well over a few lunches, hence she was one of the first names that I’d jotted down when we were drawing up a guest list.
‘Hold you horses there Katie’ I said, calling her back.
Fiona made her way towards me, a slightly nervous smile on her face. She was a couple of years older than me, but very sporty and trim for her years. She wore her hair cropped to make things easier for her at the gym, but it was still a good three inches all over. Not a client of mine though, however many times I’d offered. I handed Katie the clippers as she came past me and she stood by the chair, waiting while I gowned Fiona. That pause was all Katie needed to decide to take the guard off the clippers. As I checked that the gown wasn’t too tight, Katie moved in, clipper-motor already running. The gentle, introductory number four that I’d intended for Fiona was now a “no-guard” pass across the top of Fiona’s head. Fiona was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t realise what was happening at first. It was only after the second pass had widened the strip across her head that she uttered a little shriek.
‘Laura! What’s she doing?’ Fiona asked urgently.
‘I think she’s showing you what she wants for herself. She’s getting impatient’ I replied.
‘Fuck! What am I going to say at work?’ she asked nervously.
‘I’ll give you a supply of my cards. Send them my way and we’ll happily do it for them too.’
Katie was already stripping the blonde hair from Fiona’s temple. The girl was completely focussed on what she was doing. I just hoped that the camera wasn’t obstructed, because I wanted to enjoy this one in peace and quiet later on. Sexy, professional businesswoman being surprise-shaved by a gorgeous girl in her underwear and high-heels. That would be a best-seller, if I ever came to let it see the light of day. I placed a hand on Fiona’s shoulder to feel a part of what was happening, as much as to comfort her, before standing back to take in the scene better. It didn’t take Katie long to clear Fiona’s scalp and just as Katie was declaring herself pleased with her first headshaving, I swooped in with a handful of shaving foam so that Fiona couldn’t escape. Much as I sympathised with her, I couldn’t let her go without the complete experience.
‘Do you have to, Laura?’ she asked.
‘I do, don’t I folks?’ I asked the audience.
‘Katie! Katie!’ came the chant from our enthusiastic guest.
‘Patience’ I urged.
I thought it best that I took over from Katie to do the shave. Less chance of a mishap and it meant that we could also get back to the main event more quickly. To be fair to Fiona, she seemed to have made her peace with what was being done to her, seemed to have relaxed now that there was nothing she could do about it. Her hair was history, she just had to deal with it and she was. I went as quickly as I could, rather than dragging it out as I would love to have done. I could always go over it again later if needed; the main thing was to get the first run of the razor done to establish her as a truly shaven woman. I made it to the end and then had a little brainwave about how to get rid of the foam residue. I really didn’t want to drag her through the crowd to the basins, so I asked Katie to get me a cloth just as I did the final assessment. I poured white wine on the cloth and used that to wipe Fiona’s head, much to the merriment of the other guests. I finished her off with the lightest kiss on her scalp and a theatrical lick of the lips to savour the bouquet of skin, foam and grape.
‘May I present, the new, streamlined, gorgeous Fiona’ I said with a grand arm-gesture, to much applause. ‘Now Fiona, the floor is yours’ I added.
Fiona got out of the chair, her eyes fixed on the unfamiliar reflection in the large mirror. I saw her glance down at her hair lying on the floor. Then she surprised me. She hugged me.
‘Thank you. I’ve been wondering how to get out of a rut and now you’ve done it for me. And all for free’ she chuckled.
I planted a little kiss on the smooth side of her head and let her go. If ever Jill and I break up, I think I’d just identified my next target! All I needed to do was to prise her away from her man! Fiona extricated herself from my arms and repeated the process with Katie, thanking her more than I would’ve expected. The hug led to a full-on kiss between the two of them, which astounded me. Maybe I needed to catch up with her circumstances. When I invited her and her partner, she’d replied that it would be just her coming, but didn’t furnish an excuse for her other half. I didn’t read anything into at the time, but maybe I should’ve.
I watched Fiona’s hand cup the back of Katie’s head and then run down her back through her hair. Katie’s hand went to Fiona’s head to get a preview of what she knew was imminent. Please, Camera-God, make sure that they work! I implored. The two women separated and stood facing each other for a moment. Fiona leaned in to Katie and whispered something in her ear.
‘No whispering!’ someone called out. ‘If you’ve got something to say, say it to the class!’ Everyone chuckled.
‘I told her to take her bra off’ Fiona said unabashed.
I looked at Katie. ‘You don’t have to’ I said to her, hoping that the girl wouldn’t come after me for more money. She looked past me, into the audience and started to walk towards them. She’d appeared to focus on the partner of my favourite client, Judy, whose name I couldn’t remember. As she got to him, she turned her back on him and stood there, looking at me.
‘What are you waiting for, Rob, help the nice lady’ Judy said to much merriment. Rob’s hands went to Katie’s back, Katie reached up to catch her bra as it slid slowly from her boobs. Wow! They were spectacular. Definitely more than a handful, firm with large, dark nipples. Just wow! And to think they’d been coming in to my salon for nearly a year. Wow! Katie smiled and returned to the styling area in a well-practised slut-strut, backside working hard, certainly grabbing the attention of those she had just left, while those boobs jiggled for the benefit of those of us she was approaching. She didn’t need to be asked to sit down.
Fiona gathered Katie’s hair in her hands, pulling it back behind her to provide an unimpeded side-view of those boobs for those positioned off centre.
Large and proud. I’d have no qualms about taking my bra off in public if I sported those. I was happy enough with mine, but Katie’s were deserving of a wider audience. Fiona pulled Katie’s hair a little more firmly, drawing Katie’s head back towards her so that it was tilted back.
‘What do you think folks? Should I cut this off? Maybe a nice little bob?’ she teased.
‘Shave her!’ the group cheerleader piped up.
‘Would you like that Katie? Would you like to be bald like me?’
‘No, please’ Katie said, the ham-acting so obvious, you could smell it.
‘You don’t want to?’ Fiona taunted in the same comic-book fashion. The clippers went on. Fiona inverted them and aimed for a spot at the back of Katie’s neck. Someone had been paying attention on her salon visits. She pressed the clippers forward and a clipper-blade width of Katie’s luxurious hair slid away. Fiona moved the clippers to the side of the newly-shortened section, but changed her mind and moved the clippers further up, about halfway up the back of Katie’s head. She pressed them home and stood back to milk the applause as the hair tumbled. The next cut was to the side again and higher as Fiona created a staircase up the back of Katie’s head. I watched the hair fall, I strained to look at Katie’s nipples, watching them become more prominent. This was someone enjoying every minute of the evening.
Fiona paused, looked round at the audience and then positioned the clippers at Katie’s forehead. Any attempt at being artistic fell by the wayside, as did Katie’s hair when Fiona drew the clippers back. There was applause, there was a little cheer, there were urgings to get on with it, which Fiona was only too happy to placate. She was in full flow now. This woman had done this before, maybe not on another woman, but she was no stranger to using clippers. Katie’s glossy hair was powerless to resist, despite all the conditioner that she must’ve used over the years. I just wanted to be alone with Jill and her fingers while we watched this. Message to self: don’t be so eager to share in future!
The clippers were set aside and Fiona reached unhesitatingly for the can of foam. I checked that both she and Katie were okay with Fiona doing the final shave and let her get on with it. Jill’s arms circled my waist from behind. She knew what I wanted, but this was as close as I was going to get. It was wonderful, standing there in my girlfriend’s arms while I watched a bald woman put the finishing touches to a topless, bald beauty. I doubt that things could get better than this!
Fiona proved adept with the razor and after the first few strokes, I’d stopped looking at the scenario through the eyes of a professional and just looked at her like any everyday, lesbian, short-hair fan. The foam diminished and Katie was transformed into a true bald beauty with nothing to obstruct those glorious tits. She knew it, too. I had to wonder why it had taken Jill to suggest that we put the idea to her. It all came from that throwaway remark when we had our first lunch, something that I’d forgotten about until she reminded me. I think that she too had the hots for Katie. I’d make a point of finding out when we got home.
I was starting to wonder at the staying power of our guests. The evening’s entertainment probably wouldn’t have been on everyone’s list of things they wanted to see, but there wasn’t any fidgeting. Maybe it was like watching the aftermath of a car crash, there was just some sort of natural fascination there. Fiona finished and was rewarded with a hug from the stunningly bald Katie. I wondered if Fiona could feel Katie’s bullet-nipples pressing though the material of her own dress. Applause erupted for the pair of them, Fiona and Katie I mean, rather than Katie’s boobs, although some of the audience may have been showing their appreciation for those too.
Just as Katie moved away, Sandra pressed herself forward.
‘Could you do me?’ she asked timidly. The spectacle she’d just witnessed had provoked a change of heart. That was the idea that underpinned “Shorty’s”. I wanted clients to be inspired by women getting cropped or shaved and give it a go themselves. It may not have been an everyday scenario, but the desired “Shorty’s” effect was definitely in play.
‘Sure’ I said, reaching for the guard that I’d put aside earlier.
‘Who would you like to do it?’ I asked.
‘I don’t mind’ she said, taking a seat. I looked at her sitting there expectantly, her short hair clearly overdue for a cut anyway.
‘Are you going to take your top off?’ Fiona asked, showing no sign of relinquishing the clippers.
‘Heavens, no’ Sandra replied, a little taken aback at the suggestion. The onlookers tittered at her discomfort.
‘You’ll get hair on your top’ Fiona warned.
‘It’ll be fine’ Sandra replied, apparently forgetting that there were gowns available if she wanted.
‘Okay’ Fiona acknowledged. I held the guard out to Fiona just as she lifted her hand to draw the clippers across Sandra’s head. Fiona clearly didn’t share my benevolence towards the unsure.
‘Oh!’ Sandra murmured as she saw in the mirror what had just happened. ‘I thought it was going to be like a buzzcut.’
‘Was it? I’m so sorry!’ Fiona apologised, flashing the audience a smile that showed that she wasn’t remotely sorry. She carried on undaunted, which was the only option open to her. This was another potential favourite for my collection, if only the camera angles were right. The hair was mounting on Sandra’s unprotected shoulders, tumbling easily as the blades worked their way across her scalp. I watched her become more attractive with each pass of the clippers. I mean that from a professional point of view, not just from a fetishists point of view. Her hairstyle hadn’t done her any favours and wasn’t what I would’ve advised for her. Hopefully she’d come round to that way of thinking soon enough.
Fiona was throwing herself whole-heartedly into her task, clearly enjoying every moment. She was certainly a convert. I left her to it and went to make sure that everyone had a drink, doing the full hostess thing. I went to the store room to fetch another couple of bottles and bumped into Katie, now wearing a black sheath dress, but still sporting the fishnets and heels from earlier. It didn’t look like she’d bothered to put her bra back on, judging by what my porn research had taught me were known as “pokies” that were on view.
‘You look beautiful’ I told her.
‘Thank you. It feels so strange, but I love it.’
‘What do you think Craig will say?’
‘Who cares!’ she fired back. ‘I feel so much more confident now. I can have whoever I want’ she said.
‘I think you could before, my dear.’
‘Maybe, but I didn’t feel like I could.’
‘Thank you for doing it. I’ll get the money transferred for you tomorrow.’
She smiled at me. ‘I would’ve done it for free. I’ve had so much fun’ she said.
‘Now you tell me!’ I smiled. She was worth every penny of the cash and the pay rise that I’d given her. Her willingness to do it had just surprised me so much though. I’d thought that she’d turn me down point blank, but any reluctance had been a negotiating tactic rather than anything else. Maybe seeing Dani and I on a daily basis had opened her up to the idea of ditching the long hair and going for something a bit more striking. Not that her hair hadn’t been lovely, but I wouldn’t have fancied dealing with it in bed for fear of accidental strangulation at a vital moment. She was bald, she was sleek and I was her number one fan.
‘I’d better get back to check what’s going on’ I said. ‘Are you sticking around?’
‘No, I was going to go and see whether I still have a boyfriend’ Katie replied.
‘Good luck’ I said, squeezing her arm. ‘See you on Monday’ I said, becoming her boss again. She gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and I headed back to the main event.
Fiona had finished Sandra’s haircut by the time I got back. To my surprise, the formerly timid, reluctant Sandra was doing a lap of honour, letting each of the attendees stroke her newly-revealed scalp. She was revelling in the attention. She made a bee-line for me when she saw that I was back from whatever it was I’d been doing.
‘I’ve gone from wanting to kill you to wanting to, well, you know, all in the space of a few minutes’ she said, leaning in to hug me.
‘You really do suit it’ I replied. ‘Anytime you’re feeling a little curious about an alternative lifestyle, give me a shout’ I told her, not joking one little bit. I gave her buttock a squeeze, just because I’d been wanting to all evening. Now that it belonged to a bald woman, it was sweeter. I eased away from her so as not to incur the wrath of Jill.
‘I think we’ll leave the entertainment there, shall we? Anyone else who fancies doing it is welcome to come to the salon as a paying client’ I said to murmurs of disappointment.
‘Just as I was about to volunteer’ one of the three remaining women with hair said with playful disappointment.
‘You know what, since it’s you Shelley, jump in the chair’ I said. She was someone that I’d known from my old gym, who was always fun to be with. She was probably pushing fifty, but you’d never have know from the way she was wearing her expensive-looking scarlet dress. It hugged her everywhere that it needed to and set-off her jet-black collar-length bob perfectly. Scarlet and black. I wondered if she was aware of the literary reference.
‘I wasn’t serious’ she said, a little flustered.
‘I am’ I replied, fixing her with my most assertive stare.
‘I know you are’ I replied.’Who wants to see Shelly shaved?’ I asked, enlisting the help of the wider audience. I had no intention of going through with it, but thought that it would be a bit of fun at her expense. I’d tried to get her to become a client a while ago, and been turned down in favour of a competitor who I detested. This would be a little payback tease.
The show of hands was almost unanimous, with only her husband abstaining.
‘I was only joking. I’d rather strip naked’ she said.
‘That works for me’ I replied, taking more than a little pleasure in her discomfort.
‘Strip! Strip! Strip!’ one of the guys started quietly, probably thinking that I couldn’t see who it was.
‘Please folks’ I said. ‘Don’t pressure the lady. Let her make up her mind in her own good time as to whether she would rather shave her head or strip off’
I said, trying to keep a straight face.
‘Both! Both! Both!’ the wag started with his puerile chant.
‘That’s enough folks. Let’s leave the lovely Shelley alone before this gets out of hand’ I said. I could see the relief on her face.
Shelley returned to the safety of her husband and I draped a gown over the styling station to declare it “closed” for the evening. After a little mingling, I sensed Jill sidle up to me and whisper that it was getting late. I’d completely lost track of time, but slipped into my best bar-tender voice to urge people to “drink up” and to enquire as to whether they hadn’t got a home to go to. The procession started and I raced ahead of them to open the temporary curtains that we’d rigged up to keep passers-by from looking in on us.
There were hugs and pleasantries, thanking Jill and I for a lovely and entertaining evening. Polite air kisses, less-polite inebriated displays of tongue, the occasional ass-grab. It was time to shut the door.
Last in line were Shelly and her husband Tom, who if I wasn’t mistaken was a few years her junior.
‘Thank you for an interesting evening’ Tom said.
‘Yes, thank you’ Shelley added. She hated me, I could tell. We wouldn’t be seeing each other again. It was frosty. A whore-frost, I joked to myself as I shook her hand.
‘You know, he’d have let you’ she said, retrieving her hand from my limp grasp.
‘You sly devil’ I chuckled at Tom.
‘That’s the most attention he’s paid me for a long time’ she said. Awkward!
‘I’m pleased you both enjoyed the evening’ I replied, wishing they’d just go.
‘She would’ve done it if there weren’t so many people. There’s always someone with a camera these days and everything gets on the internet and all that’ Tom said.
‘We would’ve stepped in if we’d seen anyone filming’ I assured them, hypocritically.
‘Maybe now everyone’s gone, dear?’ Tom said.
‘You know, do what Laura suggested.’
‘I’d better shut the door for a moment, I wouldn’t want people thinking they can nip in for a post-lockdown trim’ I laughed.
‘You know, for a moment there, I thought you were being serious’ she said.
‘Don’t you think it would be rather sexy to be bald?’ he ventured. I wasn’t expecting that.
‘Me or you?’
‘You. Me too, if you want. Just something so different to shake us up’ he said. It was too late for them to be embarking on couples counselling and I was past caring.
‘You’d really want me to do that?’ she said. ‘No offence Laura’ she added with a glance towards my bald head.
‘What if I said “yes”, would you do it? Now that the baying mob has gone?’ he said.
She stared at him, unable to hide her astonishment.’
‘There’s me thinking you’ve only got eyes for twenty-something bimbos.’
It was his turn to look astonished.
‘Folks, maybe we should all sleep on this. If you want to do it, I’m sure we can work something out’ I said, trying to pre-empt the outbreak of hostilities.
‘No, do you know what? You want me to do it, I’ll do it. But by Jove, you’re going to make it worth my while’ she said to Tom sternly. There was a phrase
that I didn’t think had made it to the 21st Century!
‘Hang on a minute, these folks probably want to get rid of us and get home to bed’ Tom said considerately.
I looked a Jill, who shrugged her shoulders.
‘You’re fine’ I said. ‘The one condition that we have is that you need to make it worth our while to miss our much-needed beauty sleep.’
‘Nonsense, you don’t need beauty sleep, either of you’ Tom said quickly, receiving a sharp look from Shelley.
‘What would make it worth your while?’ Shelley asked, looking at each of us in turn.
‘Oh, I don’t know yet. We haven’t had chance to talk about it’ I replied.
‘Let’s just see what happens, shall we?’ Jill ventured.
‘Tom? Are you happy with that?’ Shelley asked.
‘I’m not sure that anyone’s told me what we’re doing, so I don’t know. If it’s you having your head shaved, I’ve already said I think it’ll be interesting.’
‘Shall we go and get a glass of something and then we’ll take it from there’ I said.
The four of us went deeper into the salon, which looked remarkably civilised considering what had happened tonight. Of course, there were empty glasses
ere, there and everywhere, but it didn’t look like it would take too much effort to get rid of the evidence. Shelley was the only one who asked for alcohol, surprisingly enough.
I leaned back against the counter, sipping my orange juice, feeling very responsible. I really didn’t want to wake up with a hangover in the morning. For some reason, the three of them seemed to be waiting for me to take the lead.
‘Well, that went quite well, didn’t it?’ I said to try to break the impasse.
‘Does that girl really work here?’ Tom asked.
‘She certainly does. She doesn’t cut hair though, if that’s what you were thinking of…’
‘I was thinking of a couple of things, but cutting hair wasn’t one of them’ he replied, amused at his own wit.
I took a step forward.
‘I don’t know why you’re thinking about Katie’s boobs, when you have these all to yourself’ I chided, moving behind Shelley and cupping her boobs. She was taken aback slightly, but then I felt her ease back against me, her backside pressing in to me. I ran my hand over her chest, moving between material-covered slope and bare upper chest. I glanced at Jill quickly to check that she was okay and then let my hands roam, moving down her torso, across her belly, sliding down ever-so-slowly to feel the contours of her mound. My gaze was fixed on Tom.
‘Does this excite you, Tom? I asked. He didn’t reply, but I had his full attention.
‘How about you Shelley, you don’t mind me doing this do you?’ I asked.
‘It’s lovely. You’ve got great hands’ she replied.
I reached slightly lower to tug up the hem of her dress, my gaze fixed on Tom as more and more of his wife’s thighs were revealed. My fingers brushed Shelley’s knickers, drawing a little gasp from her as I felt her warmth through the fabric. Then it was my turn to be surprised when Jill moved behind Tom and snaked her hand round to press against the developing bulge in his trousers. It was only fair, I suppose, but I didn’t expect her to be so willing.
Fair play to her though for not leaving Tom to feel left out, although maybe it was enough for him to watch his wife being felt up.
I got the impression that he’d neglected her in recent times, but she wasn’t being neglected now and she was showing her appreciation for the attention.
She was doing her best to merge with my body, pressing against me, slinky in that tight red dress. The gentle pressure of my middle finger moulded against her pussy displayed a camel-toe to Tom and Jill, another expression that the internet had taught me. How had I lived so long and not known about these things? Her little moan pleased me, but I was watching Jill unzipping Tom’s trousers with some enthusiasm. Maybe she hadn’t left her old life behind just yet. But then, had I, because there was a degree of interest from my own special place at the sight of what she was doing?
Shelley was doing her best to reach behind her to stroke whatever part of me she could reach, which was the back of my thighs mainly. It wasn’t fair really, but I’m sure that it made a good spectacle for onlookers. It was just Tom now, because Jill had her face buried in his groin while attempting to swallow his cock. I released my grip on Shelley and turned her to face me. I looked deep into her eyes and eased through her uncertainty to meet her lips with mine. My left hand went to the back of her head, gripping a handful of sleek, black hair. My tongue breached the slight resistance of her lips and started to roam. Her hands were uncertain on my hips. I gripped her hair tighter with my left hand and used my right to navigate from the top of her thigh to a position where I could slide a finger inside her. I broke the kiss. ‘You appear to be very wet, Mrs Buchanan’ I observed, while examining her for any sign of shame. If there was any, she appeared to be dealing with it well.
‘There’s something that we need to attend to before we do anything else though’ I said, glancing across at the enthralled Tom.
‘What?’ she asked, running her tongue over her lips.
‘We need to trim the undergrowth back a bit’ I replied.
‘Ah!’ she said. I used to trim down there, but there hasn’t been much point in recent times, you know. No visitors’ she explained.
‘I think that’ll change now, don’t you?’ I observed, urging her to turn so that I could get at her zipper.
I drew the zip down and eased the dress off her shoulders. I’d already discovered that she had stockings on as I’d felt the fastenings when my hands were exploring. To see her standing there in her pretty bra and knickers with sheer black stockings was gorgeous. She defied her age and certainly had the body of a woman ten years younger. I folded her dress carefully and put it over one of the chairs. I swivelled another chair towards her and patted the seat to prompt her to sit down. I could see Tom trying to disengage from Jill, possibly to avoid popping his cork and bringing his party to an untimely end.
I held out my hand as Shelley reached the chair. She understood and slid out of her knickers, placing them firmly in my palm. She sat down and I replaced the scant fabric of her underwear with my favourite small set of clippers.
I knelt in front of her, the outsides of my arms touching her silky stockings. I urged her to slide forward on the seat, and could only imagine the snail trail that would need to be wiped away. She spread her legs compliantly and looked at me expectantly.
‘Just a little off the sides’ I said, looking up at her.
She was nervous, exposed, with a buzzing cutting-machine approaching her most delicate bits. I touched it to the top of her tangled, unkempt bush to show her that it wouldn’t hurt or do harm. I looked up at her.
‘Happy?’ I asked.
‘I will be, when you’ve taken that thing away’ she replied.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can’ I replied, changing the angle of approach and drawing the blades to create a vertical bald patch from the top of her bush to her lips.
‘That’s some trim’ she observed.
‘It was an act of mercy’ I replied, working my way out from the middle. Clumps of downy hair fell away, revealing skin that hadn’t seen the light of day for a long time. It was pale, it was almost smooth. It was appealing, whereas before it wasn’t. Not to me anyway. She shifted her position as I needed and in next to no time. she was running her fingertips over her newly-revealed mound.
‘That’s so much nicer, isn’t it dear’ she said, looking across to her husband.
I dipped my head in to claim the fruits of my handiwork. A light kiss, a flick of the tongue along the length of her slit and I pronounced that part of the operation complete. I watched her wonderment as I stood up. Her fingertips stroked and explored as if it were Christmas morning and she’d just unwrapped a new gift. She looked across at Tom.
‘Look and learn’ she told him. ‘You’ll be spending a lot of time down there in the next few days.’
I moved behind her and reached down to undo her bra, leaving her sitting there in her stockings and suspender belt. I stroked her hair.
‘So, what was it you wanted me to do?’ I asked, leaning over her so that I could play with her nipples while she formulated her reply. I might have to offer additional services like this in “Shorty’s”, I mused. I looked down on her stroking herself, legs splayed to show her husband what he’d been missing.
‘You can do whatever he wants you to do’ she said eventually, with a nod across to Tom.
‘Okay Tom, looks like the spotlight is on you’ I observed. ‘Why don’t you take a seat and make yourself comfortable?’
Jill pushed a chair towards him, but stood there while he unzipped her dress before she let him sit down. She walked towards where Shelley and I were, wearing a beautiful bra and knickers set that I’d chosen for her. She ran a languid hand over the front of my dress, moving behind me to unzip me. Somehow it didn’t seem right that I was the only one who hadn’t bared something intimate. She unhooked my bra, revealing my boobs to Shelley. I was watching her expression, when Jill eased my knickers down so that I was quite naked in front of someone that up until this point, I hadn’t even treated as a confidante.
Jill moved around me and took Shelley’s hand, guiding it up to brush its uncertain fingers against my own hairless mound. I eased my feet apart and Jill gently manipulated Shelley’s hand to insert an extended middle finger inside me. Not the most deliberate finger-action that the world had ever seen, but it had probably broken Shelley’s duck when it came to such matters. Jill let go of Shelley’s hand to let her withdraw, but to my surprise, Shelley let her finger linger there, cocooned in my wetness. I closed my eyes while she explored my folds.
In the meantime, I’d lost track of both Jill and Tom. When I opened my eyes, Tom had shed his clothes and the two of them flanked Shelley’s chair, watching me getting fingered by an eager novice. I hadn’t actually been conscious of how I’d widened my stance to accommodate her and just how slutty it must’ve looked! Not ladylike at all. Shelley retrieved her hand and held up her fingers to her husband for his delectation. I hoped that that was as much of a taste of me that he was going to get.
The other development was that Jill was holding a pair of scissors in her hand. She’d apparently been waiting (patiently or otherwise) for me to come down from wherever Shelley had transported me to. My eyes widened as she directed the scissors to Shelley’s immaculate fringe, sliding one of the blades between skin and hair. She looked at me like a naughty kid and closed the blades. The reality of what Shelley had agreed to tumbled into her lap. Her freshly shaved pussy was covered in hair once more, darker and thicker than the original. Jill had taken the cut right at Shelley’s hairline, revealing forehead that probably hadn’t seen daylight for years. I smiled my approval.
Jill made as if to hand me the scissors, but I waved them away.
‘You’re doing a wonderful job and I really want to watch’ I told her. Shelley pulled a face at me.
‘Tom?’ she offered.
‘I’m an impartial observer’ he replied, his impartiality brought into question by the rather impressive hard-on that he was standing behind. It hadn’t escaped Shelley’s notice and she reached out to encircle it with her left hand.
‘It’s been a while since “Rod” has graced me with his presence’ she said, smiling. That was a new one on me. Usually, it was “Little whatever”, but on this occasion, “Rod” seemed entirely fitting. I hadn’t previously appreciated what he had from a distance, but at that stage, he had tucked away a fair bit of it in Jill’s mouth too, of course.
The scissor blades were poised at the foot of a generous tress of hair that Jill had tugged straight up from the crown of Shelley’s head. She was looking straight at me when she closed the blades together, a fraction of an inch from Shelley’s scalp. It took a bit of effort to get through the thickness and she learned that she needed to be a little more patient if she was to avoid a sore hand. A couple of additional cuts followed in quick succession. She was going for a raggedy effect apparently, but then she stopped. I tried to work out what she was doing, but it was just a change of position. Rather than standing to one side of Shelley, she’d decided that she wanted to go for a full-frontal assault. She climbed carefully onto the chair, her knees either side of Shelley, so that she was effectively straddling her victim.
‘Health and Safety are going to have a fit’ I said, watching her perched there precariously. Shelley’s hands went round to grip Jill’s backside, as if that would make it safe. I stood behind Jill and caressed her boobs to titillate Shelley, and because I could! I noticed Tom feeling left out.
‘I bet it’s not every day you get to watch three naked women have a bit of fun, is it Tom?’
‘I was just thinking of going home if you’re not going to let me play’ he replied.
‘Jill and I are only here if you need us. We’ll happily step back and leave you two to it’ I replied, giving Jill a little pull to indicate to her to get off the chair.
‘Thank God for that! I don’t think my knees could’ve stood that for much longer’ Jill said as she stood upright again. She held the clippers out to Tom, who was distracted by Jill’s nakedness. It had the same effect on me, but his wife was sitting there watching him, so it probably didn’t rate as the most appropriate thing to be doing. He tore his gaze away and accepted the clippers. Shelley was watching him, intrigued.
‘You wouldn’t dare’ she challenged, although I’m not sure why, given the damage that Jill had already wrought.
Tom approached, clippers poised. He had that air of “I’m a man, this is a piece of technical apparatus, I don’t need instruction on how to use it”. He fumbled with the switch and positioned himself behind his wife. There were no formalities, just the release of a pent-up desire to trash the hair that probably made them late for more than one social engagement. He ploughed a furrow across the top of her head. His cock did a little bob, a bow to an appreciative audience. He carried on, determined to enjoy the opportunity to do something like this to his wife with impunity. I held Jill in a bear-hug while we watched. More and more hair tumbled. Shelley closed her eyes and I envied her freedom to abandon herself to the sensation of her first shaving, something that I hadn’t been able to do.
Tom proved fastidious, going over and over Shelley’s scalp in an apparent bid to remove every last trace of her hair.
‘Steady on Tom, there’ll be nothing for me to shave if you keep that up’ I said.
He looked at me, his concentration broken. He flicked the switch on the clippers and blew on the freshly-shaved skin of his wife’s scalp. He looked round for somewhere to put the clippers and moved away from the chair to admire his handiwork.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Shelley said sternly. He looked at her. ‘Get down here’ she commanded, indicating a spot in front of her as if he were the family dog.
He knelt at her feet and watched while she slid forward in the seat once more. There was no escape for him from his fate. Her pussy was going to devour him if he didn’t get there first. He adjusted his position slightly and dipped his face towards the cauldron, keenly watched by the three witches.
I knew that my part in the tableau was to shave Shelley’s head smooth while her man did as he was bid. I squirted a generous amount of foam and swirled it around her scalp while she abandoned herself to her awakening. I don’t know how long things hadn’t been good between them, but it was fair to say that they were on the right track now. I stroked her with the razor, Tom lapped at her hungrily. Jill tried to distract me by caressing herself lasciviously. It was well worth a late night.
I had to admire the way that Shelley tried to hold still for me in the face of unreasonable provocation, but we made it to the end of the shaving without the smallest nick on her scalp. I was proud of myself. Shelley allowed Tom to break off from his valiant efforts and for a moment we all stood and looked at the streamlined Shelley. I held out a hand to her to get her to climb out of the chair. She looked at us all in turn as if to ask “what now?”. There was only one answer to that. I sat down on the seat that she had vacated and indicated to her to put her hand on the arm rests, leaning in towards me.
‘Tom?’ I invited.
He approached the arched body of his wife, looking slightly reluctant at having an audience. That dimmed when Jill took hold of “Rod” in order to guide him home, just in case he was a little hazy after not having visited for a while. I watched Shelley’s expression change as Tom’s rod slid home. He paused when he was as far in as he could go, almost as if to say “Honey, I’m home!”. Shelley’s eyes closed, Tom’s hips started to do what they needed to, slowly at first, but then gaining in urgency. The chair was straining to shift backwards with each thrust, so Jill came round behind me to act both as an anchor and entertainment for me. The four of us occupied a tiny space, but the action and emotion was intense. I was so happy to see Tom and Shelley re-connecting, in more ways than one. Tom’s urgency was increasing, as was the pressure on the chair. Something had to give, and thankfully it was Tom. Shelley looked surprised by the sudden tightening of his grip on her haunches and by the final, definitive thrust that nudged her face perilously close to mine. Tom was statue-still, standing tall behind her. Shelley’s head sank as she exhaled. I ran my hand across her bald head and down her spine.
‘Well, that was fun!’ I said, as we reverse engineered the entangled bodies.
Shelley stood up and went to the nearest mirror to look at herself properly for the first time. She stroked her scalp, stood back slightly to admire the unencumbered shape of her mound. I watch the smile form on her face.
‘Happy?’ I asked.
‘You’ve no idea’ she replied.
‘I’m pleased that we could help’ I said professionally.
‘You look good enough to fuck’ Jill chipped in with a smile. She planted a kiss on Shelley’s scalp and then ran the tip of her index finger along the length of Tom’s dick, which showed its appreciation.
‘You need to save that for Shelley’ Jill counselled wisely, rewarding him with a peck on the cheek.
‘I think I’m going to take you home, have you washed and delivered to my bed’ Shelley said to Tom with an inviting smile. He laughed, but seemed to find the idea enticing.
We made a passing attempt to make ourselves decent and just hoped that we didn’t get stopped on the way home. Clothes back on (or most of them anyway), we checked that there was no sign of the “after hours” events and made sure that it looked like a normal, little social event had taken place, which would be cleared up in the morning. We all hugged chastely as Jill and I opened the door to let Shelley and Tom go out into the night. I closed the door and drew the curtains.
‘We should do that more often’ Jill joked.
‘How am I ever going to face those two again?’ I asked.
‘We’ll just have to agree that it never happened’ she replied with a smile.
‘I for one am pleased that it did. I think we just saved their marriage from a slow, lingering demise’ I said.
‘Hopefully. Now, I need to get home for a pint of mouthwash’ Jill said.
‘Pleased to hear it, after what you did tonight’ I joked.
‘I’m glad that I did. Just to prove to myself that it isn’t something that I want’ she said, leaning in to kiss me. I pretended to shrink away from her.
‘Not with that mouth!’ I joked, dodging the slap that headed my way. I took a quick look back into the salon and turned the lights off, shutting the door behind us.